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The characters do not belong to me, neither does the song which inspired this vignette. “Interlude” was written by Bob Cooper and Bob Russell and is performed by June Christy on the Capitol Jazz album “Gone For The Day,” recorded in January 1957.
The Interlude
by Andrea Christine
A corner of the world
A moment out of time
Two people chance to meet
How bittersweet
How sublime
And clinging there a while
To gaze across the years
And hope the sun that sets
Brings no regrets and no tears
And then the farewell bow
The lingered kiss good-bye
And who explains the how and why
These are memories for all time
To think an escapade
A fly by night affair
Became an interlude
That I’ve pursued
Everywhere
I hate May. All of the trees and flowers that surround my house in the woods seem to add insult to injury, with their reminders and promises of life while I am trapped in a cycle of death. Why must everyone I love be hurt? Tommy... even his name brings tears to my eyes when I step outside in the sweetly-scented breezes of May. Sure, Jarod helped me put some closure on the whole Thomas issue, but in May, it’s as if I’m finding him dead on my porch over and over again. Just when I’d started to trust that I could have a future away from this horrible place, my dreams died along with him. The pain of my grief for him used to come upon me like a flash of lightning, sudden and searing. Now it’s more like a dull ache that never completely goes away.
It’s late, and I’ve had a long day. The same old, same old... chasing shadows and running from monsters in the dark. We haven’t had a lead on Jarod for days, and Raines has been asking way too many questions. I come inside, turn on the lamp and sink down into the sofa for a few minutes before making my way to the bathroom to run a hot bath. It’s strange, I reflect as I finally allow myself to relax a bit, I had a dream about Tommy last night, and all day I’ve felt as though he were near. Not near like he was before I told him that I loved him, but near like there’s something he wants me to do. In the dream, Tommy wasn’t dead; he had moved to Oregon alone. He returned to Blue Cove because he missed the long summer days and me. I woke up with the sickening feeling that results from the clash of reality and dreams.
On nights like this, I can’t stand to fall asleep to silence. The radio is still tuned to the classical station Tommy and I loved, but as I turn it on, soft jazz fills the air. Good, that’s one merciful thing. I had forgotten that they played some really obscure jazz on Friday nights. Drifting off to sleep, finally able to forget for a moment that lost world of promises, a new song starts to play, a light jazz piece by a singer whose voice reminds me of my mother’s. I’ve never heard it, but the words spoke to some intuitive part of my deep inside my soul.
Within a few minutes I am dreaming, but the song continues to play. Scenes of the moment I met Tommy, the time we spent together and the love I felt for him flash like a movie in my mind. The sense of him grows stronger until I can see him standing in front of me, smiling tenderly. “Tommy!” I cry out, running toward my old lover.
“Hello, Parker,” Tommy is smiling wistfully, a hint of sadness in his eyes.
“What is it, Tommy? Tell me, whatever it is, just tell me,” I implore, burying my head in his chest.
“You know how much I love you,” Tommy says, gently stroking my hair, “but you can’t let that love stop your life down. What we had was wonderful, beyond wonderful, but there is so much more for you to do, so much more love to give to someone else.”
I start to cry. “But I don’t want to love anyone else but you, Tommy!”
He wipes my tears with his gentle fingers. “I know, that’s how it feels now, but you’ve got to understand that what happened between you and I was more than love, it was the beginning of everything else good that will be in your life. You took a risk to let me in, and you will have to do the same thing if you want to reach what comes next. Don’t be afraid, I’ll always be with you.”
We stand there in silence for a moment, and the reality of what he has said begins to sink in. Although I wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, I had been refusing to go completely forward.
“Show me, Tommy.” I slip my hand in his and hold it tight, even though he is disappearing from sight.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Before his form fades away, Tommy points to the sky, which begins to flicker as the song starts to play again. However, instead of scenes of Tommy, I see Jarod and I as children, the first time we saw each other, when he kissed me, when I told him my name.
I watch the scenes in a sense of total wonder, discovering something that I hadn’t realized fully until that moment: I have always been in love with Jarod. I will always be in love with him. Nothing will keep us from being together; nothing ever had, even when I regarded him as an enemy. His love had been patient and true, never giving up. Part of me knows that I am dreaming, that in the morning I will have to resume my ice queen demeanor and act as though I do not love him. I’m as much a pretender as he is, convincing the world I do not care. But I know that it will not last forever. I cannot let this torment win. We will be more than an interlude.
May could begin to mean a whole new thing, I reflect as the early morning light spills in through the windows. Maybe. . .
FIN
by Andrea Christine
A corner of the world
A moment out of time
Two people chance to meet
How bittersweet
How sublime
And clinging there a while
To gaze across the years
And hope the sun that sets
Brings no regrets and no tears
And then the farewell bow
The lingered kiss good-bye
And who explains the how and why
These are memories for all time
To think an escapade
A fly by night affair
Became an interlude
That I’ve pursued
Everywhere
I hate May. All of the trees and flowers that surround my house in the woods seem to add insult to injury, with their reminders and promises of life while I am trapped in a cycle of death. Why must everyone I love be hurt? Tommy... even his name brings tears to my eyes when I step outside in the sweetly-scented breezes of May. Sure, Jarod helped me put some closure on the whole Thomas issue, but in May, it’s as if I’m finding him dead on my porch over and over again. Just when I’d started to trust that I could have a future away from this horrible place, my dreams died along with him. The pain of my grief for him used to come upon me like a flash of lightning, sudden and searing. Now it’s more like a dull ache that never completely goes away.
It’s late, and I’ve had a long day. The same old, same old... chasing shadows and running from monsters in the dark. We haven’t had a lead on Jarod for days, and Raines has been asking way too many questions. I come inside, turn on the lamp and sink down into the sofa for a few minutes before making my way to the bathroom to run a hot bath. It’s strange, I reflect as I finally allow myself to relax a bit, I had a dream about Tommy last night, and all day I’ve felt as though he were near. Not near like he was before I told him that I loved him, but near like there’s something he wants me to do. In the dream, Tommy wasn’t dead; he had moved to Oregon alone. He returned to Blue Cove because he missed the long summer days and me. I woke up with the sickening feeling that results from the clash of reality and dreams.
On nights like this, I can’t stand to fall asleep to silence. The radio is still tuned to the classical station Tommy and I loved, but as I turn it on, soft jazz fills the air. Good, that’s one merciful thing. I had forgotten that they played some really obscure jazz on Friday nights. Drifting off to sleep, finally able to forget for a moment that lost world of promises, a new song starts to play, a light jazz piece by a singer whose voice reminds me of my mother’s. I’ve never heard it, but the words spoke to some intuitive part of my deep inside my soul.
Within a few minutes I am dreaming, but the song continues to play. Scenes of the moment I met Tommy, the time we spent together and the love I felt for him flash like a movie in my mind. The sense of him grows stronger until I can see him standing in front of me, smiling tenderly. “Tommy!” I cry out, running toward my old lover.
“Hello, Parker,” Tommy is smiling wistfully, a hint of sadness in his eyes.
“What is it, Tommy? Tell me, whatever it is, just tell me,” I implore, burying my head in his chest.
“You know how much I love you,” Tommy says, gently stroking my hair, “but you can’t let that love stop your life down. What we had was wonderful, beyond wonderful, but there is so much more for you to do, so much more love to give to someone else.”
I start to cry. “But I don’t want to love anyone else but you, Tommy!”
He wipes my tears with his gentle fingers. “I know, that’s how it feels now, but you’ve got to understand that what happened between you and I was more than love, it was the beginning of everything else good that will be in your life. You took a risk to let me in, and you will have to do the same thing if you want to reach what comes next. Don’t be afraid, I’ll always be with you.”
We stand there in silence for a moment, and the reality of what he has said begins to sink in. Although I wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, I had been refusing to go completely forward.
“Show me, Tommy.” I slip my hand in his and hold it tight, even though he is disappearing from sight.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Before his form fades away, Tommy points to the sky, which begins to flicker as the song starts to play again. However, instead of scenes of Tommy, I see Jarod and I as children, the first time we saw each other, when he kissed me, when I told him my name.
I watch the scenes in a sense of total wonder, discovering something that I hadn’t realized fully until that moment: I have always been in love with Jarod. I will always be in love with him. Nothing will keep us from being together; nothing ever had, even when I regarded him as an enemy. His love had been patient and true, never giving up. Part of me knows that I am dreaming, that in the morning I will have to resume my ice queen demeanor and act as though I do not love him. I’m as much a pretender as he is, convincing the world I do not care. But I know that it will not last forever. I cannot let this torment win. We will be more than an interlude.
May could begin to mean a whole new thing, I reflect as the early morning light spills in through the windows. Maybe. . .
FIN
